Good Night Kisses
by crematosis
Summary: Nineteen-year-old Dean Winchester has been raised as a vampire hunter in a town overrun with vampires. He's learned to be careful and trust no one. But when an attractive stranger arrives in town, all of Dean's instincts go out the window.


Dean grumbled to himself as he peered under the Impala's hood. Spend time working with the car, his dad had said.

Fucking bullshit.

Dean was nineteen. He wasn't a baby. He knew how the car fucking worked by now. It was just some lame-ass excuse for his dad to go off on another hunt without him.

How was he ever going to be a good hunter if he never got to do any actual hunting?

"Excuse me," said a deep, gravelly voice right behind him.

Dean jerked up from the car and whirled around, one hand on the gun at his hip.

All the tension drained out of his stance as he found himself staring into breathtakingly blue eyes. With a supreme effort, Dean forced himself to avert his gaze, but that meant he was now staring at his perfect pink lips.

Holy shit. The guy was gorgeous. Maybe only a few years older than Dean, but definitely way, way out of his league.

The dark-haired stranger raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side.

Oh, right. Shit. He was staring. And staring was rude.

Dean hurriedly wiped his hand off on his grease rag and thrust it out. "Uh, hi. I'm Dean."

The man smiled and took Dean's hand. "Castiel. I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. We just don't see too many people out after sunset. But you wouldn't know that, would you? You don't seem like you're from around here."

Dean's eyes wandered over Castiel's suit jacket. Yeah, he was really overdressed for the neighborhood.

"No, I'm not," Castiel agreed. "But I was having some car trouble and I've heard that a very good mechanic resides on this street."

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "They're probably talking about me. But the thing is, I'm not an actual mechanic. I fix up a few things for people in town when I need a little extra cash. But I'm not trained or licensed or anything. So you'd probably be better off with a professional."

"Would a mechanic's shop be open at this hour?" Castiel inquired. "If, as you say, people in the area do not go out much after sundown."

"No, probably not." Dean glanced around warily as the last bit of daylight began to fade. "Maybe I should take a look at it then. See if I can get your out of here before it gets really dark. Trust me, you don't want to be stuck in Lawrence after nightfall. Too many vampires and other creatures running around. My dad and I have been hunting the sons of bitches since I was a kid."

"A vampire hunter? What an unusual profession." Castiel tipped his head to one side. "Are you any good?"

"Hell yeah," Dean said, puffing up his chest proudly. "My dad's John Winchester, the best vampire hunter in the world. He's taught me everything I know."

Castiel nodded. "I've heard of John Winchester. I think everyone has. And to hear that he has a son following in his footsteps. He must be so proud."

Dean rubbed the back of his head, a little embarrassed by the effusive praise. His father had never told him he was proud of him for becoming a hunter. It had simply been expected. He was a Winchester and Winchesters were hunters.

"Just doing my job to keep the world a safer place."

"I'd say you're doing a pretty good job," Castiel said with a hint of a smile. "I haven't seen any vampires so far."

"Maybe, maybe not," Dean said. "Most folks can't tell they're dealing with a vampire until they get bit."

"But you can tell."

Dean nodded eagerly. "There are lots of signs, usually small things a normal person might miss. Vampires usually have weird eyes. Sometimes a gray so pale it's almost white, sometimes a copper color. And when they're about to attack, their eyes are usually red or black. Vampires usually smell bad, like the worst bad breath you can imagine. And sometimes they reek like they haven't washed in days. They're physically repulsed by holy places like churches, they're uncomfortable in the daylight, and they don't eat."

"You must have done quite a bit of research on these creatures," Castiel said in a tone of admiration.

"It's not my research," Dean said, again feeling undeserving of the praise. "Generations of hunters have worked together to figure this shit out. It hasn't been easy. Vampires look so much like normal humans and if you're not careful, even an experienced hunter can let his guard down. But I'm pretty safe. Dad got a witch to spell me with all sorts of protective magic when I was younger." He rolled up his sleeves, showing off all the anti-vampire spells written on his arm.

Castiel reached out a hesitant hand. "Can I…can I touch it? Is it dangerous?"

"Not to you," Dean said reassuringly. "It's only repels vampires. Supposed to burn them if they try to lay a hand on me."

"Fascinating," Castiel said. He traced one of the whorls of the tattoos. "What language is this?"

"Latin I think?" Dean said with a shrug. "I don't know what it means. It's just scribbles and symbols to me. But it does its job." He flashed a smile. "Haven't been bitten yet. Oh! I should show you all of Dad's awesome vampire fighting kit. Silver bullets, holy water, the works. It's pretty neat."

Castiel hunched his shoulders. "I should probably head back to my car. It's getting dark."

"Hell no," Dean said. "I'm not letting you walk anywhere in the dark. You can stay here for the night."

"Do you really think your father would approve of you inviting a stranger into your home?"

"What Dad doesn't know won't hurt him. Come on, Cas." He slung an arm around Castiel's shoulder. "I wouldn't want to feel responsible if something happened to you out there. I'll walk you back to your car in the morning and take a look at it for free. How's that sound?"

"That's very hospitable of you," Castiel murmured.

"Just helping out my fellow man." Dean jiggled the key in the front lock and pushed the door open. "It's not much, but it'll be safe for the night."

Castiel cautiously stepped over the threshold, wide eyes slowly traveling over the inscriptions painted across the walls. "You tattooed your walls as well?"

"Dad's idea," Dean said with a shrug. "Vampires don't usually break into homes unless they're absolutely desperate, but there's no sense taking that chance. That's why I just couldn't let you spend the night in your car."

"That's an alarming thought," Castiel said. He looked like he might faint.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Dean said. He quickly cleared piles of his father's research papers off the faded leather couch so the man could sit down. "Do you want me to get you a glass of water? Maybe rustle up some dinner?"

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," Castiel said quietly. His eyes flicked to the door.

Dean put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't be nervous. We're safe here. Nothing gets in without my say so."

Castiel gave him a weak smile. "I apologize for my nerves. Where I'm from, vampires are almost unheard of. It's like walking into a horror movie."

"You get used to it," Dean said. "Hey, I'm going to microwave some lasagna. I feel bad that I don't have anything else to feed you, but I wasn't planning on company tonight."

"Don't trouble yourself on my account."

Dean scoffed and tossed the tray of lasagna in the microwave. Reheating lasagna took no effort at all.

"Want anything to drink?" Dean squinted into the fridge. "I think all we got is a few beers."

Castiel shook his head. "I don't drink."

"More for me then." Dean snagged himself a beer and settled two paper plates of lasagna on the TV tray beside the couch.

Castiel only picked at his food, probably still too nervous to eat much, but he had at least taken a bite so Dean still considered dinner a success.

He tossed the paper plates in the trash and flopped down on the couch with another beer. "Wanna watch some TV?"

"If it's alright with you, I'd rather learn more about your career. This isn't what I imagine the life of a hunter would be like."

Dean took a long swig of his beer. "Oh, brace yourself, my friend. There's a hell of a lot you probably wouldn't expect."

Once he got started, Dean found himself carried away with stories while Castiel listened attentively. He talked about his childhood, how his mother had been killed by vampires and his father had sworn the family to revenge, how his younger brother Sam, who had always been his father's favorite, had gone off to college somewhere fancy and Dean had been blamed for it, how his father had forced Dean to spend more and more time honing his sills as a hunter and wouldn't let him have any fun. As the memories became more bitter, Dean got up for more beer.

Distantly, Dean sensed that the fourth beer had been a bad decision. He was starting to feel a little drunk and the last thing he wanted to do was give the world's hottest man the impression that he was a sloppy drunk.

But Castiel politely didn't mention Dean's slurred words. "Where is your father now? I thought the two of you were meant to keep the town safe."

"Dad heard something about a nest of vampires showing up right outside of town and he went out to take care of them before they become a problem."

"It seems foolish to take on a whole coven on his own."

"That's what I said! He should have taken me along. But apparently he still doesn't trust me with any hunts." Dean rolled his eyes. "He lets me work on the car, keep track of our supplies, and help put up warding. But then he goes off on hunts all by himself and I'm stuck 'practicing' shit. I know how to shoot. I've done plenty of target practice in the backyard. When is he ever going to let me be a real hunter?"

"Your father really does not appreciate you as he should," Castiel said solemnly.

"You said it, man." Dean knocked back the last of his beer and smiled blearily at his new friend. "You're a pretty awesome guy. So awesome, I think I'm going to share some of my pie with you."

He lurched to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen for the cherry pie he had hidden at the very back of the fridge, behind all the takeout containers and leftovers.

To Dean's great delight, Cas attacked the pie with gusto.

"This is very good," he said. He sheepishly held out his empty plate. "May I perhaps have a little more?"

"Hell yeah," Dean said. He cut another generous slice of pie. "Anybody who loves pie as much as I do is alright in my books."

Castiel shoveled his second slice into his mouth even faster than the first. By the time he was finished, he had a dusting of crumbs across his lips and cherry juice dripping down his chin.

Dean snickered. "You look like a vampire with red stuff all over your face."

"What? Where? Did I get it?" Castiel hastily scrubbed at his face, only making the mess worse.

Dean fell over laughing. "No, man. Here, let me get you something."

He made his way over to the sink and wetted a paper towel. "It's all over your fucking face," Dean said. "Which should be gross." He dabbed Cas' cheek. "But the enthusiasm was kind of awesome."

"You're so good to me," Castiel murmured. He turned his face and pressed a kiss to the inside of Dean's wrist.

Dean froze. He couldn't have been imaging that, could he?

"I apologize. I didn't mean to presume."

"Presume all you want." Dean fisted his hands in the collar of Cas's shirt and yanked him into a bruising kiss. He could still taste the cherry in Cas' mouth along with the hint of a darker, almost smoky flavor. It was fucking amazing and he licked into Castiel's mouth, eager to taste more.

Castiel kissed him back just as enthusiastically for few minutes, sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip, before he finally pulled away. "Shall we take this to your bedroom?" he inquired.

"Hell yes." Dean stumbled to his feet. He felt a little dizzy from the alcohol and the breathless kissing and walking all the way upstairs to his room sounded insanely difficult at the moment and also a waste of time he could be spending kissing Cas. But Castiel had a good idea. Dean's bed would be way more comfortable than the couch.

"I've got you," Cas said. He scooped Dean into his arms bridal style.

"Holy shit. You've got muscles on you." Dean really hadn't expected Cas to be so strong. He certainly had a fit and athletic body, but he wasn't bulging with the sort of muscles he would expect in a man who could lift him up with almost no effort. Just to be sure, Dean reached over and squeezed Cas' bicep.

No, just perfectly normal muscle tone.

Castiel carried him up the stairs, gently kicked open the door to Dean's bedroom, and lowered him down onto the bed.

It was an unspeakably hot display of strength. Dean sure as hell wouldn't have been able to carry Cas all the way into the bedroom.

"Lube's in the nightstand," Dean said as he kicked off his shoes.

"Got it," Cas said. He placed a hand on Dean's hip, halting him from wriggling out of his jeans. "Please. Allow me."

Dean's jaw dropped as Castiel sank down on the bed, fastening his teeth around Dean's zipper.

Oh, he had changed his mind. This was way hotter than being carried to bed.

Castiel removed Dean's jeans slowly, taking the time to run his hands lovingly over Dean's thighs before he reached back up to hook his fingers into his boxer shorts.

Dean groaned with relief. He hadn't realized how hard he was until his erection was freed.

"Beautiful," Castiel murmured as he slid a hand under Dean's shirt. "And all mine."

Dean helpfully lifted his arms so Cas could slide his shirt over his head and then started to work on getting Castiel out of his suit.

Just as Dean had expected, Castiel's body was gorgeous, all lean muscle and smooth, tan skin. If he hadn't shown up in such formal dress, Dean might have assumed he was a professional athlete. But maybe the guy just liked to work out a lot.

Dean sprawled across the bed, letting his legs fall open. "How do you want me? Hands and knees? Bent over the bed? Against the wall?" With Castiel's demonstrated strength, they could get into some pretty kinky positions.

Castiel smiled and cupped a hand around Dean's face. "I want you just like this, looking into your beautiful eyes as you fall apart."

Dean's heart rate sped up. Oh yes please.

Castiel squirted a little lube into his hands, rolled it in his hands to warm it up and then slowly pressed one finger passed Dean's entrance.

This was the part Dean hated the most. Despite Cas' best efforts, the lube still felt a little cold and the first intrusion into his body always felt a little uncomfortable until he could get himself to loosen up.

Cas hummed to himself as he added a second finger, twisting and scissoring them as he worked Dean open. In no time at all, he was adding a third finger, twisting it just right to brush against Dean's prostate.

Dean whined and arched his hips. "Fuck, Cas."

"That is the idea," Cas said with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers slowly and before Dean really had time to feel the loss, he was liberally coating his own erection in lube. He nudged Dean's legs apart a little further and then settled himself between them, slowly working his dick into Dean's body until he bottomed out.

Dean groaned, his eyelids fluttering. It had been several months since he had had a male lover. Living in a small town meant he didn't get to meet too many people. And god, he had missed the feeling of glorious fullness.

"You okay?" Cas asked.

Dean nodded. "I'm good." He rolled his hips experimentally, grinning at Cas' groan. "Come on, baby. Let's get this show on the road."

To Dean's great dismay, Cas started slowly, tentatively rocking his hips. Just when Dean thought he couldn't take it anymore, Castiel transitioned into a slow, sensuous rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before making the long slide back inside.

Dean had never been a person who appreciated slow sex. He liked a quick, rough fuck, full of passion and lust. But something about Castiel's lovemaking was really doing it for him.

Cas was an incredibly affectionate lover. He leaned in to nuzzle against his neck and kiss his throat, lick the shell of his ear, groan against his skin how amazing Dean felt.

Dean was going to be ruined for anyone else.

Finally, finally even Cas seemed to grow impatient with the slow pace. His hips started moving faster and faster, every thrust striking Dean's prostate.

"God, Cas," Dean cried out, fisting his hands in the sheets.

Castiel's eyes were dark with lust, those beautiful blue eyes almost black.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck," Dean whined. "I'm so close, baby. Are you?"

"Yes," Castiel said. He bared his teeth, two gleaming fangs, and then bit down hard on Dean's neck.

Dean gasped and arched his back, mingled pain and pleasure sending him over the edge into one of the most intense orgasms in his life.

He might have passed out for a moment, but the pain in his neck brought him reluctantly back to consciousness.

"Hello, Dean."

Castiel smiled down at him, his lips bright, cherry red in a cruel parody of the wonderful time they'd had earlier.

Dean swallowed hard.

Castiel was a vampire. Castiel had bitten him. He was going to die.

"You bear my bites well," Cas purred as he caressed Dean's neck.

"Just kill me and get it over with," Dean snarled.

"Don't be ridiculous," the vampire said. He lightly slapped Dean's shoulder. "As if I would ever kill you."

Dean stared in horror at the bloody handprint left from the touch. It looked like he had already lost a hell of a lot of blood. He would definitely die from blood loss eventually, but that would take forever. His limbs felt heavy and there was a weird tingling sensation in his face, but that didn't feel anywhere close to life-threatening at the moment.

"You're a vampire," he said gruffly. "Killing people is what you do. So go on, let's get it over with quickly."

"Oh, Dean, for all your knowledge you have yet to reach understanding of our kind. You don't realize how appealing all of this is."

Castiel gestured down the length of Dean's body with his blood-covered hand. Dean could only watch as the blood dripped off Castiel's fingertips and flinch as each droplet hit his skin.

"We're not mindless creatures feeding off every human we find. Some humans are irresistibly attractive, far too attractive to kill. And we make them our mates."

Dean shuddered. To a hunter, being turned was a fate worse than death.

"You look so beautiful bathed in your own blood." Castiel smeared blood across Dean's mouth and pressed his fingertips between his lips.

He thought blood was supposed to taste bitter and metallic, but the flavors that exploded across his tongue were spicy, sweet, tangy, smoky.

Holy shit, it was better than pie.

Dean wrapped his mouth around Castiel's fingers, licking off every last trace of blood. The more he sucked, the better the taste.

"Tastes so good, doesn't it? It's no wonder we have a reputation for blood lust. But you're young. With time and practice you'll be able to control your urges."

Dean didn't want to control his urges. "More," he demanded.

"You'll be such a welcome addition to our coven," Castiel said with a chuckle. "How ironic that a hunter would be my true mate." He cupped Dean's cheek with one hand. "Your father tried so hard to protect you, but all the spells and sigils in the world wouldn't have made a difference. You were destined to become the very thing you were raised to fight against."

"More," Dean demanded, scraping his teeth over Castiel's neck. He could feel his fangs descending. He was hungry, so very hungry.

"Patience," Cas said. "The coven will have a supply set aside for new members. I will take you there to finish your transformation."

He stroked two fingers over Dean's forehead. "You will have to take a new identity. The Winchester name is unwelcome among vampires."

He smiled brightly. "I think we shall call you Michael."


End file.
